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april 27th, 1979 los angeles, california - flipper's roller boogie palace
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
There was always something special about the way my wheels clacked against the wooden flooring, the sound becoming something I knew I couldn't live without over time. Becoming one with the rink had always been a dream of mine—
"Damnit!"
And it'll probably always be a dream.
"It's okay, just one more time—"
"No Yana, I-I can't fuckin' do it," I stressfully shrugged while raising from my slouched position. "I've been at it for weeks and still, no progress. It's like all my attempts are gettin' worse."
I knew why they were and sadly, I didn't want to acknowledge it. My performance has dwindled; below average if I'm being honest with myself. I had fallen into a slump. The foundation of this slump comes from me woefully missing Michael. Although it's only been a few weeks, I can say that my experience of being the girlfriend of a superstar has become the most highlighting entity of my life.
But it's also the most dimming.
I hadn't been able to properly sleep for weeks due to our late night phone calls that would ween into the crack of dawn. I would find myself only getting two hours of sleep before having to prepare myself for classes. My relationship and school life has been like skating on thin ice and so has my home life.
In the wee hours of the morning while I lay in bed talking to Michael, I would hear the creaking of my apartment's front door. Lucas has been sneaking out nights a time doing Lord knows what and it surprises me that he thinks no one would notice. My mother and father wouldn't be able to because their room is furthest away from the front door; but me, of course I just had to be the one to discover his little rendezvous sessions.
I have yet to tell my parents about it and quite honestly, I don't care to. I want him to learn from his mistakes in a way that doesn't offer my guiding; the hard way. My love for Lucas is infinite but his unbearable behavior is something I just can't seem to get around. When we were younger, things were much different. We'd always hang out and do things together, things that little kids would do without having a care in the world.
But then, things grew sour as he aged into the eighteen year old boy he is today. His attitude did a complete one-eighty along with his scraping demeanor. It wasn't at the expense of anyone's sanity but mine. I was the one that looked after him, practically raised him when Momma and Daddy had to work late shifts. I was his best friend, the person he'd always come to whenever he was in need of a good word in his ear.
